


Help me fix this

by TaurusDoodles



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Dyslexic Scout, Mild Angst, Mostly Fluff, No Romance, and sane, just some teammate bonding, medic being nice for once, medic is one scout's many dads shh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23189263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaurusDoodles/pseuds/TaurusDoodles
Summary: Medic notices Scout's trouble with reading and decided to look into it.
Relationships: Medic & Scout (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 114





	Help me fix this

Jeremy was good at a lot of things. He could pick a lock— not very fast but he could still pick one. And he learned it all on his own too. He was a self proclaimed artist too. And a pretty okay one if he had any say to it. He could also run. He could run and run and  _ run  _ for hours on end and barely tire! He loved to move around. Loved to make his presence known. So running was his escape from boredom. His escape from that two bedroom apartment cramped floor to ceiling with boys and one modest mother. In that cramped apartment however, he learned he was a talented organizer— as his mother had put it. She’d tell them all it was time to “clean house” and he’d straighten every picture frame to perfection! All toys would be put away neatly. Books lined up in all the correct places. Yeah sure, he made most of the messes himself, but he cleaned them up just as well as he made them! Jeremy was good at that.

Jeremy may be good at a many things, but, well… Reading wasn’t. He  _ can  _ read, don’t get him wrong. But it’s just hard sometimes. Even the smallest of texts are hard to read. The words—no the letters;  _ oh lord all those letters _ !— would jump about and scramble around like it was the rinse cycle! He’d finish off an entire paragraph only to go back a second later and reread it over again, and he still barely understood it. H’d understand if someone read to him, but otherwise it proved difficult. In school, he often got teased by his classmates and ignored by teachers. No one really bothered to help so he never asked. Mom only assumed his bad grades were because he insisted on goofing off during class rather than learn; which was only half true if he had to admit. He’d be punished with a grounding and that’d be that. His brothers never thought too much of this either. Why would they when two dropped out of school and one always skipped school? They just thought “being dumb in academics runs in the family” and left it at that.

In the end, Jeremy concluded that he was just stupid. Sure, he graduated highschool, but that meant shit when he had copied his work off his brothers’ old papers or when his friends lent him the work. He made it through by a fraction of a hair. Pure luck. He was a lazy dumb bum, he’d concluded.

The Scout spun around in the rolly chair that never seemed to have a home in this dirty infirmary Medic called paradise. It was surprisingly quiet for an afternoon, especially after a go around with the BLUs. Normally Medic and Heavy were playing chess to celebrate their victory or to forget their loss; or Medic would be feeding his many doves. All in all, it was unusual to be in an empty infirmary. Medicless. Quiet. Lacking the smell of fresh blood. German incoherence Scout was admittedly interested in learning.

Scout sighed. He didn’t need medical attention. Waiting there was just useless if it wasn't important. Which it wasn’t. Scout just wanted to see what the doc was up to was all. He seemed to be in a particularly good mood, if this morning was any indication. For once he didn’t curse him out in German before he could get his fill of coffee. He said good morning back and proceeded with his usual routine. All Scout wanted was to maybe hang out with the doc for once. He thought maybe he’s finally gotten through to the man. Maybe it was finally possible to be friends with him. It’s been a year since the team was hired after all. It’s a damn wonder how it took this long for the doctor to warm up to the scrawny Bostonian; the rest of the team got used to him much faster, albeit they didn't enjoy his company all too much, but at least they warmed up to him— all but Spy that is.

Scout absentmindedly rolled across the room to the neat bookshelf behind Medic’s desk. He had to have stashed some comics there somewhere. Or at least something with cool pictures worth a look. He skimmed through the various titles— literally skimming as he barely gave a second glance to any of them. He mainly judged the books by their spins and whether the lettering looked nice or if it had color, other than white, then it would mean it was a nice book. He’s always been told “don’t judge a book by it’s cover” but that was never said about it’s spine so….

Scout pulled out a white and blue hardback novel. Thick and full of pages he no doubt was going to skim through. He flipped the book over from his side to it’s front where he, for once, read the title. He squinted to make sure the letters didn’t scramble. Sometimes they did, sometimes they didn’t; even so, he had to make sure they didn’t in this moment. For all he knew he could be walking into some weird German porn, and if so then taking in the book’s name was important. No way was he going to see what weird shit the old man was into. With a shudder at the thought, Scout shimmied his blue eyes across the large handwritten lettering, first surveying his terrain.

After assessing how long the two words were— which wasn’t too bad, only seven letters long while the second word he understood easily as “journal”; if he could get a hang of reading and spelling “scientific”, he could tackle this puny word. He started off with the beginning of course. He lit up as his brain, for once, clicked. “Medi!” He exclaimed aloud. Scout recognised that one easy peasy! He remembered it from the beginning of Medic’s job title and the beginning of “medigun”. Scout smirked to himself. He got this. He was going to dominate this stinking book. Make it cry all the way home to it’s freaking book mama.

Mentally patting himself on the back, Scout turned back to the book cover. Then suddenly he didn’t recognize it. Suddenly the prefix “medi” jumped around and turned into “dmei”, despite Scout knowing exactly what word it was. His victorious smirk deflated into a tight lipped frown. Scout bit his lip as his eyes scrawled across the entire title again. He focused as best he could as he tried to tame the letters. But soon “journal” disappeared too. It even mixed into the first word very briefly. It all turned into alphabet soup to him

Deicaml uornajl; that’s what it looked like to him now. Like one of those word scrambles his oldest brother liked so much.  _ Try to find “medi” again _ . Scout thought to himself.  _ You can do it. Just focus and you’ll find it. You can do it, Jeremy. You can do it… _

He resorted to the old fashion science of sounding the word out, hoping his brain will click and the word will jump out again. “Medi…Medi…. Meeeeedi—”

“ _ Medical _ .” In an instant the book was ripped away from his wrapped hands. Scout looked behind his shoulder to be greeted by white fabric very close to his face. Dragging his eyes upward he landed on Medic, a scowl sat across his face. “Uh, yeah. I-I knew that…!” Scout muttered sheepishly. He could feel his ears burning in embarrassment.

Medic shook his head and moved to put the book back where it belonged. “Sure you did, kind.” Medic then turned and shooed him away from his area. The Scout compiled of course. He knew not to get in the way of Medic’s work.

Scout rolled off to the side before standing with a huff. He thought he was stupid, didn’t he? Well he wasn’t wrong, but the assumption still stung. The Medic lowered into his own chair and pushed himself closer to the desk. Scout crossed his arms as he watched the older teammate push his glasses up higher and gather some papers together.

“I-I knew what it said!” He spat. “And I know how to read— I mean, I ain’t— I ain’t stupid!” Medic didn’t say anything. He continued on with whatever it was he was doing. Scout bit his bottom lip.

“I  _ can  _ read you know!” Scout scoffed. “I mean I did graduate on time. A real diploma an’ everythin’! I’ve got the pictcha of me holdin’ it with my Ma in my roo—”

“I never insulted your intelligence, junge.” The doctor said with a matter-of-factly tone of voice. He didn’t look up as he continued to write something down. “I just thought you were making noise for zhe sake of making noise.” Scout’s shoulders deflated. He pursed his lips, darting his eyes around everywhere but where Medic sat. He nervously shuffled about. Bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. He gazed down at his worn out sneakers still dirty from today’s battle.

The scritch scratching of Medic’s ballpoint filled the room until Scout couldn’t take it anymore. Exasperated, Scout slumped. “Still— still, I’m not dumb. I can read. It’s just—”

“Nur was?” Medic was looking at him now. Body completely turned around. A brow raised in pure curiosity above the rim of his glasses. The doctor look. The look any medical practitioner— even a not-so-sane, er  _ professional _ , man such as Medic— would give their patient when they  _ know  _ they are hiding something. Scout looked away from his gaze. He felt his ears burn again and wished he could hide them. Wished he hide period.

“Is something zhe matter, Herr Scout?” Said young man rubbed at his elbow. “If so, you can tell me.” His voice had an uncharacteristically soft edge to it opposed to the usual manic feel to it. Scout gulped. He’d only laugh. Tell him he had to go back to the first grade because that’s how he was sounding; like a pathetic first grader who’d been struggling but had given up. He was going to call him stupid now if he told him how words swim around. How everything scrambles. Reverse. Change.

“N-nothin’. It ain’t anything for you to worry ‘bout.” Scout shifted once more before hurrying off. “Sorry t’bother ya doc.” Before he could leave the medbay his name was sternly called after. He winced, reluctantly stopping in front of the door. So close to escaping this awkward and embarrassing situation, and yet so far from actually doing so. “Vhat is the matter, Scout.” Not a question with an option. A demand with a mandatory answer. Scout turned hesitantly. At some point the doctor moved to the front of his desk, now leaning on the edge, arms cross.

Pushing past the lump in his throat, Scout pocketed his hands, shyly looking away from the hard gaze Medic gave him. “Vhatever it is, I assure you I vill keep it secret. Doctor’s promise.” He nodded his head with a genuine, reassuring smile.

“Words are weird.” Scout admitted quickly without thought. Medic stood straighter. He dragged the chair to the front of his desk then retreated to the other side. He splayed his hand out to the seat in front of himself, looking to the young gentleman expectantly. Scout started for the offered seat, albeit hesitantly.

He squirmed in the chair. It rolled a little as he moved. “Elaborate. Bitte.” He twiddled with his thumbs, meanwhile Medic had his gloved hands folded perfectly in front of himself. “Vhat do you mean by ‘vords are veird’?” Scout could tell there was no way out of this. He was trapped like a caged animal now. He felt like one of those fake ghost-businessmen trapped in one of the Mystery Gang’s traps. About to be unmasked. Exposed. He had the brief compulsion to say “I wouldn’t have admit shit if it weren’t for you meddling Medic!” Scout sniggered to himself for a second before his smirk fell.

Scout shrugged. Finally he said, “They just.. Just are!” He exclaimed. “They don’t make any sense. ‘specially when all the lettahs are moving around an’ shit. I-I can’t… Focus. Things look, ahdunno, foriegn? Like anotha language?”

Medic nodded. Did he understand? Or was he about to burst out laughing at the stupidity? “I understand.” Oh. He adjusted his glasses. Looked at the young man in front of him with seriousness drowning in his eyes. “Y-you do?” Medic nodded. “So… You have this— This problem too? Or…?” Medic shook. Scout frowned again.

“I don’t understand personally, however I do understand zhe problem here.” Scout lit up. Before he could say anything in return however, Medic continued. “Dyslexia.” Was all he said.

Scout paused. His face contorted into confusion. “Dys- _ what-ia _ ?”

“Dys-lex-ia.” Medic corrected. He turned around and grabbed a random book from the shelf. He placed in front of himself, facing it right in Scout direction. “I know someone else vith it vhen it comes to the English. Und I know someone vith it in the German language. It is an unfortunate predicament zhat knows no language boundaries.” He pointed to the book in front of him. “Read zhe title here for me. Go ahead. Do not be afraid. I vill not make fun of you.”

Scout picked up the paperback novel. It was tattered and old, he observed. The text was large and stylized with a simple illustrated scenery of grassy hills, a dirt path, a couple bare trees, dull light blue sky, and two figures strolling down the dirt path. Scout looked back to Medic. He leaned back, relaxed in the chair he sat in. Watching Scout expectantly without a word. He had that weird rush he’d get back in school when the teacher would call on him to read anything. His stomach suddenly felt heavy. He felt like he had to get this perfect as to not look or sound like an idiot. He moved back down to the book cover, roving over the large text. With his nerves racking all the letters transformed every time he moved his eyes repeatedly over the same words. He cleared his throat as he swallowed his anxieties down to his stomach.

He read the first word. The shortest one on there. “Um, A-at?” He looked to Medic for confirmation. Medic didn’t confirm nor deny whether he was right or not. He told him to continue. To go ahead and read what he sees. Scout slouched down with hunched shoulders. “Right, right. Uh; At— no,  _ of _ — Nice and N-nem.” Again, Scout looked to Medic. He leaned forward, nonverbally asking for the book back. Scout obliged. Medic kept the book turned the other way so Scout could still see the cover.

“Close.” Medic pointed to the beginging word. “You corrected yourself here. You are right in zhis being ‘of’ und not ‘at’. Good job.” Scout smiled proudly at the rare appraisal. Medic scrolled his index to the next line. “You vere very close here. It is not ‘nice”. Vould you care to try again?”

Scout nodded. “Is it.. Um…” His mind still deciphered the word nice out of the scrambled mess. Suddenly the N he saw flipped and converted into a W. “Wice” wasn’t a word as far as Scout knew. But what if he flipped that W back downwards? Then it would make…. “Mice!” Scout exclaimed triumphantly. Medic nodded with an approving smirk. He urged him to continue with the last word he’d gotten wrong. He did the same thing he did with mice; flipping the letters around until they sounded right.

“Und so zhat makes zhis…” Medic urged. Scout grinned proudly. “Of Mice And Men!” Medic hit the desk with a triumphant  _ thud  _ of his fist. “Ausgezeichnet, Hase!” He shouted. Scout beamed, guessing this meant he was right.

He suddenly had this weird airy feeling in his chest. A similar feeling to when he’d successfully clubber the enemy Scout off his feet while the enemy Heavy shot at him. A feeling of… What was it? Pride? Whatever it was, he liked it.

Medic broke the victory with a serious tone, but his mouth still twinged with a grin. “I cannot rightfully diagnose you vithout the proper testing. Zhat und I specialize in physical mishaps. But you can choose whether to take my diagnosis seriously or not.” He waited for Scout to say something in return. When he didn’t, he continued. “Dyslexia— how can I describe zhis… Ah! I know!” He snapped his fingers with fail, the gloves clearly in the way. Nevertheless he went into the explanation.

“Dyslexia is a disability of sorts vith.. Hrm,  _ ranging  _ degrees of difficulties. Numbers. Eh, spelling sometimes is affected. Learning to read, in your instance, is hard to achieve. It is not because you are stupid, Scout.” Said young man widened his blue eyes in surprise. Medic didn't stop to let him get a word in. “You may read at a slower pace. Understanding vhat it is you are reading. Uh, like I said before, math und spelling are often a recurring issue— Scout, did no one ever check zhese out? Did you ever let anyone like your Mutter or lehrer know about your struggles?” Scout shook his head. He never told a soul. “It never crossed my mind to do so.” Medic frowned. Not a disapproving frown. A concerned one.

“The teachas just ignored me everytime and I learned to stop asking for help in the second grade. My brothas all had their own problems. Ma was busy. I had othah friends who either nevah learned to read or who could read but found it, ya know, hard too. We, um, I just stuck through it though.” Scout shrugged it off as if it were normal. “Scout…” Medic trailed off.

“What? Should I have bothered ‘em with this dumb thing? S’not like anyone woulda helped. By time I reached fourth grade my two twin oldah brothahs dropped outta school and became the family’s idiots in everyone else's eyes.” Scout scooted back, abruptly standing. He kept his glower away towards the exit but made no effort to leave. “Ma was already bein’ called a bad mother for letting them drop out before they even began their senior year, I didn’t wanna cause her more grief. More humiliation. S-so what if I didn’t tell no one! I could act normal and no one would suspect a thing!”

Scout felt a firm hand grasp his shoulder. He whipped his head back around to see Medic there again. A solid expression rested on his face. “I understand your concerns, Scout. But today is not back then anymore. You can face zhese problems now and vork on zhem if you so desire.”

“H-how?”

“Practice reading through zhings more often. Take your time. Ask for help if you need it.”

“But… Who the hell would help an idiot—”

“You are not an idiot.”

“You know what I mean!—”

“I vould help you.”

Scout stiffened. “R-really? You’d… Help me to be normal?”

Medic snorted. “Oh Scout, I can’t fix zhat horrible haircut or zhose buck teeth of yours!” The doctor howled with laughter from his own joke and the bright red on the boy’s cheeks and ears.

The doctor calmed himself down, regaining his composure. “But really. I can help you. Zhe only question is; are you villing to let me?”

Without hesitating or thinking, Scout nodded fast. “Yes!” He breathed out. “Yes, please! I-I wanna be like othahs. I wanna be able to read shit like you guys can. Please…”

Medic nodded. He planted another firm hand to the younger’s shoulder. “I vould be happy to help.”

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a quick sketch I did: https://taurusdoodles.tumblr.com/post/610908790065430528/medic-helping-scout-with-his-dyslexia-he
> 
> I tried my best to understand dyslexia better when I went into writing this. I used numerous cites to look into the disability factually but these two lend the most help:  
> https://www.understood.org/en/learning-thinking-differences/child-learning-disabilities/dyslexia/what-is-dyslexia  
> https://www.understood.org/en/learning-thinking-differences/child-learning-disabilities/dyslexia/common-myths-about-dyslexia-reading-issues
> 
> And this one helped a little to understand the personal difficulties in dealing with dyslexia:  
> https://geon.github.io/programming/2016/03/03/dsxyliea
> 
> I apologize if I had gotten anything wrong or misunderstood things. I have learning disabilities myself but dyslexia isn't one of them. I tried my best!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading! Thank you for any kudos or comments!
> 
> OH and I deeply apologize if I inappropriately wrote Medic's accent ^^;;;


End file.
